And Farther Still to Go
by anythinggoes666
Summary: Voldemort won the war, which started immediately after he returned to life in Harry's fourth year. The Order survives for another year before being obliterated in the Second Battle of Hogwarts. What will the five survivors do to change things? M for violence, torture, non con. AU.
1. Chapter 1

The cold stone was slick with blood between the large lumps of human form laying about, not moving. The remaining fighters avoided looking at the corpses except to leap over them in the heat of battle. Every so often, another form would crash to the ground, and one side or the other would offer up a twisted half smile before again focusing on survival.

Red and green lights flashed. Someone screamed. A shocked sob escaped someones mouth. And the battle wore on, not stoping for the mere fighters who had begun to lose all hope so long ago. After all, they had lost Harry Potter, hadn't they. He died standing next to the Dark Lord, after years of fighting him. Some say he was possessed, imperiused perhaps, but all knew that he had turned. His eyes had shone with a malicious glee as he muttered the darkest curses known to wizards at his one time friends, at his family.

Hermione had understood first, and had been the only one to act. She had watched in silence for a minute, calculating, dodging his attempts to kill her, before finally deciding. In a flash, her wand was pointed towards him, and her lips were moving, forming the only unforgivable curse she used with any form of regularity.

"Avada Kedavra."

And then the leader of the light was dead, at the hand of his best friend. Hermione refused to think about it, refused to watch the body fall to the floor, refused to do anything but mindlessly fight the black cloaked terrors. Ron stood at her back, confused, horrified by his best friends, but fighting on regardless.

"Why? Why'd you do that 'Mione?" He demanded angrily, no doubt mirroring the thoughts of the other Order members who had seen the murder.

"How could you? He was our best friend, for all you know he was pretending, waiting to murder Voldemort when he wasn't looking-"

"Ronald shut up." Her voice was cold as steel and even less yielding. She knew there had been no choice, had seen it in his mind, and in his features, but she daren't tell Ron that. She knew he would never believe her. And besides, there were better places for an argument than in a battlefield. Nevertheless, Ron opened his mouth, prepared to rebut the statement.

"No Her-"

"Ronald, stop talking and fight damn it!"

"But I don't even know if I can trust you anymore, 'Mione." He said slowly, as he turned to face his fiance.

"Ron- what are you doing! You're leaving our backs unprotected!" She muttered frantically, trying to work around him while firing curses at those surrounding them. She had almost managed to get them back into a stable position when she saw the purple streak of light strike Ron in the side.

"Ron!" She couldn't help but protest, even though she knew it was too late, and knew she couldn't spare the time to grieve either. Still, the sharp pain in her chest tugged at her senses, and all she wanted was to bend down and check on him, help him get up... But there was no time. Instead, she maneuvered herself to stand over him, protecting him as he tried to staunch the blood flowing from his pores.

But the death eaters had seen the weakness in her position, even in her posture, as she fought to keep herself standing, to keep moving. They saw the cuts on her arms, the way she hobbled on her left leg, and knew that finally, after months of trying, they would have the mudblood. Bellatrix moved in first, casting a simple expelliarmus at her back, and Hermione screamed as she felt her wand attempt to leave her hand.

"Accio wand!" Hermione cried, wandlessly calling it back to her. Bellatrix laughed, and looked over at the Dark Lord, who had just finished off McGonnagall and Flitwick.

"My Lord! We have the mudblood!" She screeched at him, smiling inanely. "May I play?"

"Of course, Bella. Ensure I can hear her." He said smoothly, calmly walking over to the area despite the frantic spells Hermione was shooting in his direction.

"Now, now, mudblood, we wouldn't want to anger me. And I find these spells tiresome-" Voldemort remarked as he waved the hexes out of the way, dodging those which could not be blocked.

Hermione shuddered as he approached, knowing that against both him and Bellatrix she had no chance of coming out on top, let alone while protecting the dying Ron beneath her feet. Even as she thought this, Bellatrix suddenly exclaimed "Look what we have here! A blood traitor under foot... Another toy for Bella!"

"You do realize that talking in the third person implies you lack sanity, yes, Bella?" Hermione spat as she cast yet another shield spell over Ron. It was the most powerful one she had read, most couldn't even perform it, yet under the weight of Voldemort and Bellatrix's spells it fell in seconds. 'Shit.'

"How dare you insult me like a common witch mudblood! I will ensure your blood curdles, I will have you screaming for death-"

"Sounds lovely. Can we get a move on now, please?" Hermione spoke calmly, but the speech distracted her from Voldemort's wand long enough to allow a spell to hit her, and suddenly she couldn't feel her wand arm. She did hear the clatter as her wand dropped, and saw Ron's panicked paper white face, before she started screaming.

"Crucio!"

Ron came fully awake at the sound of his loved one's unending scream. "'Mione! Mione no!" He shouted, trying desperately to find his wand, to find anything which would help her. But he couldn't move anything other than his left hand, couldn't see anything other than black spots interspersed with red flecks, before being overwhelmed with a sense of peace. It was over.

It went on for hours, or maybe seconds, there was no time, only pain. Ron's frantic shouting was a far off siren, and Hermione barely registered when he stopped. Then suddenly, it was over, and she was on the floor, out of breath and shaking.

"Are you ready for the real fun?" Bellatrix asked in a cloyingly sweet voice before raising her dagger.

The shaking wouldn't stop, the racing of her heart must have been audible, she wanted to scream, to run, but could do neither. When the dagger bore down upon her arm, she only stared into Bellatrix's eyes, refusing to give away the remainder of her dignity.

The hand calmly carved out letters, dark and deep, M-U-D-... Hermione stopped reading them. But she couldn't hold out the scream when those hands suddenly moved to her thigh, and the letters were larger and messier, and her blood was a river and the pain was surrounding her like a blanket.

Then it stopped.

Her view was a haze of pain, but she searched for the reason Bellatrix was no longer trying to drown her in her own blood. And she saw Voldemort.

"You have done well, my Bella," He said, cupping his hand to Hermione's face, "but I think you will enjoy this even more."

And then Hermione was being held up by the Dark Lord, his arm curled around her waist.

"My lord...?"

"Patience, Bella."

Voldemort moved his hand to tilt Hermione's head downwards, towards the still face of her ex-fiance.

"No, no, anything but this no..." She mumbled, barely coherent though her grief was obvious, played out upon her features for all to see.

Bellatrix laughed as she saw the mudbloods face crumple, knowing that at long last she was broken. Soon, her laugh was joined by the cold chuckle of her master.

"Collect the rest of the traitors!" Voldemort called out to his followers, amplifying his voice with Sonorus to ensure those all over the castle could hear him.

In a matter of minutes, the survivors were lined up, gagged, tied, bound, and generally made ready to travel to a better torture chamber. In most cases the bounds were useless, as they were passed out from blood loss or extreme use of the cruciatis curse. And saying as they were all without wands, it was purely superfluous. Still, there was something in all of the death eaters which enjoyed having their pray completely helpless. They smiled as they glanced around, counting the few members of the opposition. There were five.

One was George Weasly, who looked the best of all the captives. He was bleeding from his thigh which sported a long measured cut, but was otherwise unscathed. He was also one of two captives who had yet to pass out.

Hermione Granger was the other, though none of the death eaters knew quite how she'd managed it. Her few remaining garments were soaked through with blood, and nearly all of it was hers. She had been tortured for a little over two hours under the hands of the most vicious death eater around. But she merely stood, gazing silently at her captors.

Luna Lovegood's blonde hair was a tattered wreck, huge hunks had been torn out, and what remained was either bloody or eerily gray. There was a gash the size of an envelope gurgling on her stomach, and it looked as though most of her fingers were broken. Yet her chest rose and fell in a steady motion, giving her the disconcerting aura of being merely asleep.

Susan Bones had also survived, though she had done so by hiding behind the pieces of armor and ducking into dark passageways. As such, she was simply stupefied, and every one of the death eaters was looking forward to finally getting their wands (and hands) on her. 'And the Granger girl too,' thought some of the less finicky deatheaters. Luna was out of the question- the Dark Lord had wanted her, for some reason.

The final member of the opposition was teetering on the edge of death. Most of his ribs were broken, and one of them had definitely punctured a lung, judging by the blood bubbling up in his mouth, and the raspy breathing. His leg jutted out at a strange angle, and if one were to look closely, they could see the bone protruding past his robe. Nevertheless, Severus Snape was still breathing, so the deatheaters felt obliged to include him in their count.

Snape's story is an interesting one, and his betrayal of the Dark Lord was still fresh in all of their minds, though hit had been over a year since they had known. It was the First Battle at Hogwarts which determined everyone's loyalties, as those who tortured the children faced off against those who protected them, and Snape was part of the latter. Lucious had crossed over too, for the protection of his son, but they were soon brought out of the equation when the Dark Lord sent a blasting hex in their general direction. So the Deatheaters were only left with one traitor, and unfortunately he was by far the most capable duelist of them, barring the Dark Lord himself. He took on five, six, of them at a time without breaking a sweat, killing them swiftly before moving to protect more of the children beside the other Hogwarts professors. Over time, they learned to avoid him when attacking members of the Order of the Phoenix, focusing on the lesser targets. That first battle was a stalemate, for although the Deatheaters got Hogwarts, they captured few and killed less, as Dumbledore, Hermione and Snape had managed to take down the antiapparition wards just in time to save them.

Now that they finally had them, the Deatheaters (and their Lord) were anxious to inflict the most pain possible upon them. (Dumbledore had been killed just over a month prior, sacrificing himself to keep the Boy-Who-Lived alive.) With this in mind, Narcissa Lestrange raised her wand, beginning to heal the worst of Snape's injuries.

"What are you doing Cissy?" Cackled Bellatrix, looking over at her sister with wide eyes.

"If he dies, there can be no more fun, Bella. You wouldn't want that, would you?" Narcissa hissed, forcing more of her magic into the healing, while Bella and those who heard her began another round of raucous laughter.

"I am pleased, Narcissa. You will be rewarded for this. Choose one prisoner, it will be yours to do with as you will."

"My Lord, they are all for you," spoke Narcissa, realizing that this was a test, and one which she would not want to fail. "I am not worthy of such pleasures."

"Well spoken, Narcissa. We will discuss your reward at a later date. For now- we take them to my... Chambers. Narcissa, take Severus. Bella the mudblood. Nott the blood traitor. I shall take the blonde girl, and you, Goyle, take the other. "

"Yes my Lord." They all chanted, and then there was a cheer, which was abruptly cut off by the sound of four of apparitions popping away from Hogwarts and into the unknown.

"The rest of you," Continued the Dark Lord, "Are to go back to your homes, and spread the fall of the Order, and of all opposition, in every way you can. Those who work in the ministry, be sure to take note of those who do not respond well to the news."

And with that, Tom Riddle, greatest Dark Wizard known to wizard kind, apparated to his favorite place to begin tormenting his prisoners.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

A/N: I don't own this, I just wish I did.

Hermione, George, and Luna were all placed in a cell together. Snape was taken away so as to be healed just enough to allow more torture, and none of the prisoners knew what was happening to Susan Bones, though they could hear her panicked shrieks.

"Luna, George, are you guys okay?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Fred spat bitterly.

"I suppose I could be worse," intoned Luna softly, "But I don't know if I've ever hurt this much before. How are you, Hermione?"

"Alive."

"Thats nice."

"She shouldn't be," began George, "I saw what she did to Harry. That was murder. He was your best friend!" Fred began to move towards Hermione, intent on harming her, before realizing that he was incapable of doing so in his current state of blood loss. Instead, he began railing at her.

"What were you thinking? That You-Know-Bloody-Who was going to take you into his fold? Is that it? You saw we were losing and decided to jump ship, right? As if they'd ever take a- a filthy _mudblood_ like you." His words were acid, biting at Hermione's insides.

"George, didn't you see what he was doing? Voldemort... He turned him, or imperiused him or something- George he was trying to kill me!"

"Sure he was. Anything to take the blame off you. Don't think we don't know what you're doing, you're trying to get back into our good books after your little plan failed!"

They both fell silent, as Hermione didn't know how to profess her innocence, and George was too angry to search for words.

"She's right, you know." Said Luna, staring up at the ceiling. "I saw him. Trying to kill her. But I think it was the Billywigs... They can mix up your brain. "

"But-but..." And George collapsed in on himself, trying desperately not to cry, and failing. "They're gone. All gone..."

And Hermione understood, but she also knew there was nothing she could do about it, other than allow herself to be the scapegoat for a time, and try to hold them all together. She gestured to Luna, who moved over to comfort George silently. She could still hear Susan screaming, but wasn't sure it was a good or bad thing. On the one hand, her screams meant she was still alive, and that the Deatheaters wouldn't come get one of them for a time. On the other, she wouldn't wish the kind of pain that brought those screams on anyone.

'What exactly were they doing to her?' Under the surface of that thought swam another, more practical one, 'What will they do to me when they're done with her?' Followed swiftly by 'We need to get the hell out of here.'

"Guys, we need to figure a way out."

"No shit." Replied George, who was just beginning recover his bearings.

"Do either of you have anything on you? I have..." Hermione paused, feeling around a lump which had settled in an inside pocket of her robe.

"I have my bag." She said in a hushed tone, suddenly terrified someone would over hear her, and understand what that meant. Her eyes rose to meet Georges, and she mouthed 'Yes!' as her cheeks swept into a grin.

Then Susan's screams stopped.

"Merlins left leg... Whose next? Whose next?" She murmured under her breath. "They can't see this on me... Where should I put it?"

"I'll hold it." Said Luna.

"But what if they take you first? We should hide it somewhere..."

"No, I won't go until after you and George, so I'll hold it."

"But how could you-" They all turned as they heard footsteps approaching them. Knowing she had no choice, she handed the bag to Luna and began praying under her breath as Luna stowed it under her robes.

Susan was being held up by a cloaked Deatheater, wearing nothing but her outer robe, and though she looked at her fellow prisoners, her eyes were completely vacant.

The Deatheater opened the door and shoved her in, before reaching down and pulling Hermione out.

"Your turn, mudblood."

Hermione gave Luna a half glance and waved to George, before standing proudly and walking next to the Deatheater. 'I must not show fear. I must not show fear.' Her thoughts were a constant mantra, keeping her awake and functioning, even knowing what was coming next. After all, Susan most certainly had undergarments on before.

"I knew she was one of them." Growled George. "Just look at her, walking next to him like some servant, ready to help. Merlin, I can't believe I thought she was one of us!"

"She is as much a phoenix as you are." Said Luna.

"I'm not a phoenix! I'm a- oh. Right. The order. But how could you say that? After what you just saw?"

"It is better to walk with a straight back, than one which is bowed."

"Thats not a bloody answer!"

"It's simple really. She's trying to remind us to keep hope."

And with that, Luna lapsed into silence, staring at the wall and attempting to count the Sillygraps climbing on it. George, however, was deeply lost in thought.

Susan was still lying on the ground, unmoving and passed out, which Luna and George later agreed was a mercy.

Snape was inducted to their group about an hour after Hermione started screaming. He was covered in blood and shaking, but awake.

"Severus!" Exclaimed Luna, smiling at her one time mentor.

"Luna, hush. Its bad enough sitting in a cold cell with the after effects of the cruciatis, I don't need the further torture of your voice."

Luna and George gave small chuckles at this small reminder of normalcy, before continuing their search through Hermione's beaded bag.

So far, they had managed to read most of the titles of her books, and had taken note of only six of them: Manipulating the Mind, Undetectable Dark Curses, Unbreakable Blood Wards (and how to break them), Masters Level Defense Against All Arts, The Way to Win (by Salazar Slytherin), and Breaking Out Made Easy, which they mentioned to Severus. His response was to raise an eyebrow before bending over to pick up Breaking Out Made Easy and starting to read.

"Inform me of any other interesting discoveries."

"Yes sir." The two chorused, returning to their work. They found two more tombs of interest- Torture at its Finest and Resisting Torture, before they heard more footsteps.

"Quickly now." whispered Severus, whisking the books into Hermione's bag and hiding it on his person before the Deatheater came into view.

Luna and George paled when they saw Hermione, who was leaning heavily on the Deatheater barely aware of their presence. Her normally bushy hair was a storm of tangles, clearly mixed with blood and other... fluids. Beneath her torn robes, they could see nothing but blood and torn flaps of skin. Even Severus stiffened when his gaze turned towards her legs, where blood was making tear tracks downwards, forming a neat puddle on the floor where she stood. The Deatheater watched their reactions and smiled.

"Oh yes, she was a fighter. And pretty damn good too... Pity she's a mudblood. If she were purer, we wouldn't have had to share quite so often." With a condescending sneer, he shoved Hermione into the prison cell, locked the door, and walked away.

Severus stood quickly as he saw Hermione leaning towards the floor and just managed to catch her and lower her to the ground.

"Those bastards!" George exclaimed once he moved past his shock. 'How could they break someone like her just for fun? How could they enjoy this?' He pondered uselessly. "How could they?" But the last was voiced quietly, because they all knew the answer, though only Hermione had courage enough to say it.

"Because they wanted to."

All eyes locked on hers, and they didn't see a dead girl living. They saw a fire blazing in each of her hazel eyes, a determined glare fixed on each of them.

"We have to stop them."

Severus, George, and Luna looked back in shock, not understanding how she could go through _that _and come out ready to fight. Susan had presumably gone through the same thing, if anything to a lesser extent, and she was still a pale shadow gazing at the stone ceiling. She had refused to answer their questions, to talk to them, didn't respond to their gentle nudges. They weren't sure she would ever come back from where ever she was. But Hermione, Hermione was... Alive. Fierce. Determined.

"My bag?" She inquired, holding out her hand. Severus took it out and gave it to her, a slightly bewildered look gracing his normally stony countenance.

"Okay, I'm sure you've gone through some of this, but I'll highlight the most important bits. We have Dittany. We have a bunch of class A potion ingredients and a silver cauldron. We have a timeturner. We have clothing. We have a small portion of vegetables and dried meat. Does anyone else have anything to add?"

Severus shook his head, having been thoroughly searched while being 'healed.' But George raised his hand before saying, "I have an extendable ear and some ton tongue toffee... Oh, and a spot of Peruvian Darkness Powder," He added brightly.

"Thats great, we could really use that..." Hermione noted to herself.

Luna also raised her hand. "Yes, I have a radish. Also, a self inking quill."

"Thank you, Luna. Does anyone know if Susan has anything? I suspect she won't be able to tell us herself for a while."

"She doesn't, we looked." Said George, somewhat hesitantly. "We had to know if she had a wand..."

"Yes, yes thats fine."

"Now is not the time for petty moral battles." Snape interjected pointedly. They all nodded, understanding it wasn't meant as a jab.

"So what do we do? We probably don't have much time until they come get another one of us."

"For right now? We fix us. Accio Dittany."

She began applying the substance liberally on George's thigh, and Severus's upper arm. Their wounds closed up, though it was clear they would leave nasty scars.

"Okay, Luna? Do you have anything dire?"

"Well, my fingers are mostly broken."

"Severus-"  
"Yes. And do not presume to order me about."

"Never."

It went left unsaid that if Susan didn't come to by the time they were ready to leave, she would be left behind. There was no room for dead weight.

"They're coming." Whispered Luna, as Severus was in the midst of fixing her index finger. He immediately dropped her hand, and gave Hermione the handbag to hide.

"Blood Traitor, come out, it's time to play." Bellatrix stood at the doorway, smiling wickedly and swathed in deep red, which may or may not have been the original color of her dress.

"Don't expect him back, kiddies," She mock whispered to them, "This lesson will be permanent."

George looked paler than ever, but he held his head high as he walked out the door, and his cellmates pretended not to see the tremor in his hands.

"The next great adventure, George," Hermione called out softly.

"Loved." Replied Luna.

"Never forgotten." Answered Severus.

Georges back straightened slightly at the words, and walked on down the hallway, knowing he would never come back, but also knowing a part of him would never leave. It was a spoken ritual- the Order members said it every time one of their members left on a dangerous mission, a suicide mission, or when one was captured. It was said over every grave, and to every loved one. It was one of the few things which held them together at all towards the end.


	3. Chapter 3

Word of the Day: Clubbable! Unfortunately, it doesn't actually mean that someone (a troll perhaps?) gets clubbed...It means sociable, and its really fun to say. Go for it, you know you want to :)

Chapter Three:

Silence enveloped the remaining prisoners, as they each retreated into their minds, and their memories. They had heard tales of what happened to Order members who got caught, and what little the tales didn't cover, they could all imagine vividly. They just really didn't want to. Instead, they remembered other times, when they had known this was happening to their friends, to their loved ones.

The day they found Fred's left arm. Molly's head. Lupin's ring. And all of the others who had disappeared without a trace over the years, captured and tortured for information while those left behind hid their sorrow with anger and continued the fight.

But it was different now, knowing what they had gone through as each of their friends walked out the door, never to return. It was different to tell someone 'It will get better' knowing it wouldn't, that it couldn't. Even if they managed to get out of the prison alive, Voldemort had one. There was no place safe to return to, no one left to be saved by.

It was a sobering thought, not that any of them had had a drink in well over six months. It was simply too dangerous, as they had discovered with Sirius.

At this point, Hermione refused to keep thinking about that which could not be changed. They died. She was still alive, and she had to keep fighting for them.

'Even when you know you're going to lose?' Questioned the voice deep in her head. She didn't even deign to reply. Severus broke the silence first.

"It won't change anything."

"Yes, we must go on." Replied Hermione.

"If you had any brains left to you, you would realize the utter pointlessness of that statement. We can't go on. It won't change anything. We can't fight for something that doesn't exist, Granger."

"You could always make it exist." Luna interjected mildly, before staring at Snape as though waiting for something.

"Not possible."

"It is!" Cried Hermione.

"It is no more possible than breaking Gamp's Law. It simply can not be done, which you would know if you had any sort of intelligence."

"Gamp's law is a basic principle of magic! The two matters do not correlate in the slightest, Severus."

"Hermione, Severus, you can have your Oomfas, but you can't tend them too."

"What?"

"Its simple really. You only need the right ingredients."

"Ingredients for what?"

"The Oomfas of course."

"So you're saying we don't have them?"

"Do you have air?"

At this point Hermione lost all patience. Even knowing Luna was a Seer (or at least part seer) her ramblings and non answers made little to no sense.

"Of course we do! Can't you just _say_ whatever it is?"

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Luna. We are stuck in a dungeon, and at any point one or more of us is going to be taken, and probably won't come back. Can't you just spit it out? We need to know!"

"Oh. Well, its all quite unpleasant. But in essence- you have to change time."

"But thats not possible!" Exclaimed Hermione, even as she recalled the events in her third year. And it wasn't as though they didn't have a timeturner. Still, she thought, it only goes back a day, and a day just isn't enough time.

"I've said this before, but Hermione, you really need to be less narrow minded."

"She means to use a potion in conjunction with a timeturner." Snape cooly noted, beginning to categorize the ingredients he had seen in Hermione's bag.

"That doesn't mean it's possible!"

"Nor is it impossible. But it is not our immediate priority, we need to get out of here first."

"We have about three hours before they come for me." Luna said serenely, as though she were not speaking of her demise.

"Okay... We can attack the man at the door. Which will set off the ward... Which will call forward more Deatheaters, who we won't be able to deal with in our current state..."

"So we don't attack. We slip out... How?"

"When they open the door to take Luna. I can make us invisible easily enough, though I can only hold it over all of us for... maybe ten minutes? Will that be enough time?"

"It doesn't matter whether it is or not, it's our best plan, and therefore the one we will implement."

"Besides, you won't have to make me invisible."

"What do you mean Luna? It won't be possible to sneak you out otherwise." Hermione said numbly, not at all liking what she was insinuating.

"Thats fine."

"Severus, talk some sense into her!"

"Hermione, you should know that I have been Luna's partner for nearly two years now, and I have yet to manage to dissuade her of her notions. Let her do what is best for us, for assuredly all the other options will be worse- correct, Luna?"

"As usual professor." Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she spoke the last word, causing Severus to laugh, and Hermione to look on in wonder. She had never heard Luna be anything other than serene and mystical before. Come to think of it, she had not even thought Severus capable of laughing.

"But to sacrifice her life- there must be another way! Can't you see that if we leave her we will never see her again?"

"And how, Ms. Granger, is that any different than the choice you made with Harry earlier today?" Snape sneered icily.

Hermione flinched slightly at the mention which threatened to tear down the barriers keeping her grief at bay, then recovered enough to glare back at Severus with a blaze of hurt in her eyes.

"That was different. It was necessary. This is not, we can find a better way! All we have now is her _guess _that her sacrifice will be worth it."

"Ms. Granger, her word is final, as is mine."

"I won't agree to this, not without some proof."

"Luna?"

"Tell her, Severus."

"Very well, Ms. Granger. When Luna and I first became partners, we also travelled with Mr. Longbottom and his partner, Auror Ilgret. After a week of searching for Deatheater hideouts, we found one, a decrepit manor in northern France- and Luna told us that if we entered, only two of us would come out. Now, much as you are now Ms. Granger, we did not believe her. We argued much the same things, and decided that her 'guess' as you put it, was only that- a guess. Luna was in tears, not screaming but as close as I imagine she has ever gotten to them, she even attempted to constrain. Well, Mr. Longbottom, who was..."

"He was my boyfriend."

"Yes, well, he began to believe Luna was too unstable for the mission, and locked her in the tent, unable to get out, and with no way of knowing what happened to us if we didn't come back. But we were too... battle crazy- this was only a month or so after they had taken Mrs. Weasly, you see, and it was too early in the war for us to learn caution properly- and eager for revenge, to see the danger in the plan. We entered the manor with our auras blazing, ready to kill as many of those bastards as we could, but they were expecting us. They lured us into the depths of the manor, then apparated outside of the house before raising anti apparition wards, leaving us to confront the deathtraps set up around the house as our only manner of escape. The three of us began maneuvering back the way we came, wary, just realizing how much of a mistake we made, and we were almost immediately attacked by a giant conjured snake. It was clearly a Dark artifact, most probably one of Bellatrix's 'pets', and could only be controlled by one with dark pureblood alliances. At first, we tried fire, and when that didn't work, we tried all out cutting hexes, then I moved to the darkest arts I could think of- but none of it did any good. The thing kept advancing on us, and Longbottom, Gryfindor that he was, ran at it while shouting at us to run. And like cowards, we fled at his call. I know it was the only way, as did Ilgret, but that doesn't change what we did. We ran into a few other traps on our way out, but none of them were nearly so inescapable, and we made it back to Luna, but I don't think we ever really... Well, no matter. Luna was correct- only two of us came back out of that house. So we listen to her, we have ever since, and she's saved our lives a good number of times. Is that understood?"

Hermione nodded mutely, stunned into silence by the depth of the emotion she sensed in Severus's eyes. She knew many horror stories just like the one he had told them, particularly from so early in the war. He was right- back then, they had yet to learn caution, especially the younger Gryfindores, and those suffering from recent loss. It was no excuse, but it was a lesson they all learned the hard way. Quickly, she shut a lid down on those thoughts- they would do her no good right now, it just wouldn't do to fall apart right now, she couldn't, they needed her.

"Hermione, how long can you hold the two of us invisible?"

"Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes... If I only had a wand-"

"It is no use wishing for the impossible, if anything it is detrimental to our cause. We have little enough time as it is. I will create an illusion of us within the room, so they do not realize we are gone. It will last however long we need it to."

"We may not manage to slip past the guard, they only open the door wide enough for one of us, and they close it nearly immediately."

"That can be remedied easily- we will slip something in the doorframe so it will not close completely, but will give the appearance of having done so."

With there plan ready, but no way of putting it into action for over an hour yet, Severus and Luna went into a corner of the room, discussing the past and the people they missed, or whatever else Luna wanted to talk about. Hermione figured the best thing she could do was let them be, so she contented herself with categorizing her bag yet again, not allowing thoughts of the past to dim her mindset. They all knew it wouldn't be long now.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you for the reviews :)

Chapter Four: The Escape, And Other Things:

Indeed, it was not. There was only so much dragging that time allowed, and when it was fifteen minutes to, they all began to ready themselves for the inevitable. Hermione practiced wandlessly casting the disillusionment charm on various objects around them- the bucket, the dust bunnies, the ruins of what may have been a wand. Severus began constructing the doubles of himself and Hermione, carefully ensuring they were in color- he had a tendency to create illusions in black and white for some reason... And at one minute to, they were ready, Hermione and Severus were under the disillusionment charm, the doubles were standing quietly in the corner, and Luna was sitting on the ground facing the door.

Thirty seconds.

"The next great adventure, Luna." Began Hermione, resolutely not allowing a tremor of fear to enter her voice.

"Loved." Intoned Severus.

"Never forgotten." Finished Hermione. They lapsed into silence.

Too soon, the footsteps thundered down the passageway, and Luna paled slightly, though she stood proudly and smiled at the general area of Hermione and Severus. This time, when the masked man opened the door, he didn't bother to speak. He glanced at the prisoners, grabbed Luna by the hair, tore her out of the room, and slammed the door. But not before Severus had slipped the edge of Susan's sock between door and the doorframe, then stood and held the door so it appeared shut tight. Hermione had made a slamming noise with a mixture of a sonorus charm and a completely new invention of hers, which she had yet to name. No matter, it had done the job- the deatheater had never glanced back.

And though Hermione couldn't see it, there were tears trailing down Severus's cheeks at the lost of his longtime ally- the closest thing he'd had to a friend since he'd become a deatheater, then a spy- tears for her, for the pain she would face in the name of protecting him. But he made no sound, and his hand was steady as he pulled open the door and peered into the passageway that had swallowed her. Now was not the time for weakness.

With that thought, he grabbed for Hermione's arm, (and found it after some fumbling about in the air), and pulled her out with him.

They travelled along silently, each jogging steadily, listening for any hint of another being be it human or otherwise. It was only a few minutes before Hermione realized where they were.

"The Malfoy manor." She whispered, as loudly as she dared. Severus did not bother to reply, having noticed this some time ago. Instead, he gripped her arm more tightly, pulling her in the direction he remembered as 'out'. But he felt something slippery on his hand as he did so, a tacky substance which had soaked through her robes. Blood? He thought, though he couldn't quite conceive of how it could be- surely if she was bleeding that heavily she would have passed out before now? But what else could it be? And he dare not ask her- at least not until they were out. Instead, he slackened his grip, to be certain he was causing her no unnecessary pain, and began running at a faster clip.

The stairs were in a dark corner of the dungeon, made of stone and charmed to be visible only to the deatheaters. Fortunately, (for once) Severus still bore the mark, and Hermione trusted him once she felt the first step, though she barely refrained from gasping at the pain raising her knee that high caused. In fact, her entire body was still covered in the remains of the torture she had endured at both Bellatrix's and the many males hands. Her legs quivered slightly at the memory of- but she couldn't think of it. Not yet. There would be time for healing, if they got out. She could feel the blood soaking through her robes, and she only hoped Severus hadn't noticed. There was no time for weakness.

The staircase was long and winding, as it would have to be, for the dungeons of the Malfoy manor were several stories underground. They met a masked man coming down the stairs, but managed to evade his hurried steps downwards. He did not notice his wand was missing from his pocket.

Hermione gave a broken smile as she stared at the brown wooden stick within her fingers, before casting the disillusionment charm upon herself and Severus yet again, silencing their footsteps, and encasing their heads in an invisible, impervious, soundproof bubble so they might converse as they made their escape. The spells were not as strong as those she could cast with her own wand, but they would have to do.

"Severus we can talk now I've-"

"I am not so idiotic as to neglect to realize when spells are being cast upon me, Ms. Granger. Please refrain from acting as though I am."

Her laugh bubbled up through the connection, and he smiled, even while remembering a time when such words would reduce her to tears. But a lot had changed with the war, and when he had shown his true alliance to the light, proven it beyond all doubt, his prior students finally saw his remarks for what they were. Deep sarcasm laced with humor, made to entertain those who had the intelligence to comprehend them. Some had never come to understand it, Ronald Weasley, for one, but he considered them beneath his notice anyway.

"Yes, sir," She began, a false reverence in her tone, "but it is so hard for us mere mortals-"

"Someones coming!" Severus interjected hastily, focusing once more on the doorway in front of them. "Get through the doorway now!"

Without even a seconds hesitation, both Hermione and Severus threw themselves through the doorway to avoid the large man crashing down the staircase. However, they managed to ram themselves into the much smaller form of Narcissa, who fell and began looking about her for the source of her tumble.

"Shit."

"We need to run, which way Severus!"

"Right, second left, left, straight to the end of the hallway- go!"

"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione shouted, as Severus had released his hold on her arm, and she had no way of knowing where he was.

"Distracting her-"

"Oh no you don't! I need you-"

"Ms. Granger we are wasting time! Go!"

"I'm not the one wasting time- oh Merlins pants! Imperio!"

And Narcissa, who had been inches from grabbing Hermione, went still. 'I want you to go to your room, and close the door. There is nothing wrong. Once you close your door, I want you to take one of your poisons- whichever you see first, which is deadly- and hide it in your cloak. Then go to the kitchens, and tell your house elves to put it into the food for all of your guests who aren't prisoners. Tell them to speak to no one of this, including you. You will go back to your room and forget this ever happened immediately afterwords. Nod if you understand.' Hermione ordered, through the telepathic link formed when using the imperius curse. She watched as Narcissa's head bobbed up and down then cooly interjected. 'Go. Now.'

It was perhaps cruder than she was used to, and the imperius was far from her first choice, but it was necessary, it would save time, and it would kill a good number of their enemies.

"Where is she going?" Severus couldn't help but ask- he had heard stories of Ms. Granger's prowess with the imperius and other 'dark magics'. How she once made an entire family- the Crabbes, was it not?- kill themselves with one imperio. How she had invented a spell which enabled the user to force internal combustion. It was similar to the famous Avada Kadavra, killing the receiver almost immediately, but had the added flavor of a. not being unforgivable, and b. giving extreme pain for the last moment they were alive. The spell which traced a person through an apparition (or several) until they found a place to stay for longer than four hours, then would cause the person to erupt their magic outwards, destroying the area they were in, and killing any who were near them. The stronger the magic, the bigger the explosion. They were whispered tales, told half in fear and half in reverence. Severus had listened, and understood. Sometimes, the only way to win was to fight black fire with white fire. They are both fire- both wrong, yes- but it is the ideals behind them were what made the difference. The dark lords version of fire was liable to utterly destroy the world. Hermione's would cleanse the wound, then extinguish itself. Severus himself had invented a few spells of his own- none on the level of Hermione's, but he was traveling with Longbottom and Luna, and they would not stand for such things. Harry and Ron had been largely oblivious to her spellwork. Now however, was not the time to expunge the idiocy of Gryffindors.

"To poison the rest of the household, including herself."

And despite the position they were in, Severus had to chuckle. It was her tone, he thought to himself, so completely lacking in remorse, made up for in barely concealed mirth. Then he thought, what could have happened to change this lion so drastically into a snake? Surely, there must have been some event, some grave circumstance, which had whisked away her morals and replaced them with cold determination? Whatever it was, he knew better than to ask. Some stories could never be told, for the would tear apart the person who thought- who even dared to remember- the event that should have shattered them in the first place.

"Ah, good choice. Now, we really must get going, someone will come for us soon enough, and illusions-"

"Are completely immune to outside stimuli. This right." Hermione muttered, as she grabbed for Severus's arm, and they walked down the first turn in the manor's labyrinth. They had made it to the final hallway, which lead to a side door, which in turn lead outside of the wards, when they heard a mad cackle behind them.

"She can't see us, right?"

"There you are! My lord had begun to wonder where his little prisoners had got to." Bellatrix was staring determinably at the air between Hermione and Severus.

"Strange. How do you think-"

"Disillusionments aren't infallible. She no doubt noticed the slight difference in the pattern of the wall. She lives here, and the disillusionment is only passably effective against intricate patterns like the one we are currently standing in front of."

"Yes. I'm aware of that, _professor_. What I was referring to was how in the world she knew we had escaped in the first place. And why she's the only one coming after us."

With that, Hermione dropped the silencing spell on both of them, and made them visible.

"Hello, Bella. Fancy running into you like this."

"Mudblood. Yes, its quite the... coincidence, don't you think? Rodolphus always preferred getting them straight away, but I like it better when I can watch the hope vanish from your eyes. Look, the door is right there, and we both know you'll never reach it." Bellatrix was still cackling, but she had begun to raise her wand to speak a spell. Hermione realized- in a split second glance- that it wasn't Bella's wand at all. It was Hermione's. She looked at the wand, and at the door, and into Severus's eyes-

"Run. Door. NOW." She sent him with her legilimency probe, carefully avoiding his occlumency barriers, and other, nastier, traps. He didn't question her, and they both ran for the door, managing to open it before Bella sent off her first spell. It hit Severus squarely in the back, through Hermione's hurried shield charm. Then they were out the door, and Hermione turned on the spot, apparating them as far away as possible.

The second they landed, well, two seconds after, really, as they both had to regain their footing on the uneven forest ground first, Hermione asked-

"What did she hit you with? Are you okay? Where is the pain coming from? Is it bleeding? Is it-"

"I don't feel any different."

"What do you mean? Are you numb?"

"No, I mean I think she missed."

"She didn't! I saw it hit your back- it shredded through my shield like it was nothing! Let me see it..." And she took off Severus's outer robe, followed by his black tee shirt, before gasping.

"There's nothing there... That shouldn't be possible- unless- no... It couldn't- Severus, did you hear the incantation?"

"Not entirely, no, but I think it started with... Revelio prioritum. She said something after that, but you cast the shield spell and I couldn't hear it."

"No... Severus, we have to stay on the move. She had my wand, and although she never learned the Post Dissiliunt, the spell she cast meant that my wand would perform the last piece of magic I used through it. The Post Dissiliunt. We can't stay anywhere for more than a few hours, okay?"

Her voice was shaking as she spoke the last sentence, her face paler than parchment, and suddenly he remembered the tales about Hermione's magic. It was Dark. It was dangerous. And it was almost always deadly.

"No. Tell me what, exactly, the Post Dissiliunt is first."

"Its one of the spells I invented -you probably already knew that- And, its... Its the one that can be used to trace people through apparitions, and if they stay in one place too long, it-it uses their magic to demolish the people around them. I tried to use it on Bella just before they disarmed me and..." She trailed off, looking at her feet. "I'm so sorry." At that, Severus started. He grabbed her face, and tilted it towards him, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"I'm only going to say this once. It is NOT your fault. You didn't cast the spell at me, she did. You didn't intend to kill me, she did. In fact, if you were not here right now, I would be well on my way to dying, because I would have no idea what spell she used. And, the spell could have been much worse, I could already be dead or dying. At least this way, I have a fighting chance. Is that understood?"

She didn't have a chance to respond before her body collapsed under her, and her mind fell into a pool of blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: What Now?

Hermione's first thought upon waking was 'I really didn't think I'd lost that much blood.' Which was quickly followed by the realization that she may have been out too long, and Severus may not have moved in time, and so he may have died, giving her a miniature panic attack before she remembered to open her eyes.

"Severus?"

"I am here. You were only out for about a half an hour, I made a blood replenishing potion, but that was the most I could do without jeopardizing our potentially necessary potions ingredients."

"Necessary for what?"

"The timetravel potion. Luna sacrificed herself so we could make it, so we are bloody well going to."

"Oh... I forgot... I'm sorry, blood loss, you know." She concluded with a weak chuckle, knowing that there would be no shaking Severus from his course. "Well, the tracking spell can track us if we stay anywhere longer than an hour, and will force your magic to explode after four hours... So we have to get ready to be on the move every hour while we figure out exactly what the potion will have to contain, then we'll have to take a risk and hope we can make it in less than four hours, because its probably going to be too risky to move it... Although maybe if we make the base and bottle it..."

"Eye of newt and toe of frog..."

"Oh very funny, but I've read Shakespeare, Severus."

"Did it never occur to you, Ms. Granger, that perhaps Shakespeare was a wizard? Or that his incantations might have more meaning than simple rhetoric in literature?"

"He hasn't made any significant magical discoveries... Nor has he ever been registered as such."

"Ah, yes, and I suppose that back in the middle ages they kept very neat paper records? As for his discoveries... Much like others of his time, they were scorned as impossible."

"So... The witches in Macbeth..."

"Yes. I think it may have been his way of ensuring his discoveries were remembered, while restricting the scorn of wizards by publishing them in muggle plays. No doubt many of the 'new phrases' he invented were actually spells."

"If that is the case... This is incredible! The potential..."

"Ms. Granger, now is not the time."

"Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork and blind worms sting,

Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell broth, boil and bubble.-

I'm fairly certain those are the ingredients mentioned. What, do you suppose, a 'howlet's wing' is? And 'adders fork'... I'm guessing thats the end of a snake's tongue?"

"Correct. A howlet's wing is the wing-tips of a baby owl, taken under the rise of a full moon. I take it we are bereft of them?"

"Yes. We don't have tongue of dog either, but that should be simple to acquire. More pressing is the actual steps in the potion- we know nothing of the stirring methods or anything! This is little better than making the potion from scratch... Besides that, it doesn't mention anything about traveling back in time!"

"You are correct. It does not bring the drinker back in time- it simply allows them to interfere with the initially fated future- in other words, once we are back in time, we will be able to change things. We will have to add in the grains of time sand from your timeturner, along with a few other ingredients, in order to actually head back."

"But creating an entirely new potion could take years!"

"I'm afraid you forget with whom you speak with. I was the youngest potion's master ever initiated, and invented my first potion at the age of twelve. You brewed the Polyjuice Potion when you were of the same age. I dare say that together we have a fair shot at creating one much, much faster. After all, as I have already told you, we know the ingredients, all that remains are the calculations necessary to determine the best compilation."

Hermione nodded absently to this, and began pulling out parchment and quills, handing one of each over to Severus.

"I'll start on the timetravel equations. Each grain has to abide by the transient equation... So if I pull in the negatory theorem... And apply that to the natural log of it's reciprocal function..."

"Hermione. We have to apparate out of here first, it's been almost an hour."

"Oh! Right, sorry... One second. Accio parchments!"

Three seconds and a loud pop later, they stood in an isolated village somewhere in northern Europe. Or at least, that was Severus's most viable guess. It looked faintly like the Americas, but that seemed unlikely- only the strongest wizards and witches could perform oversea apparations. The question was certainly not important enough to concentrate on, they only had an hour before they had to move again after all. With that, he gathered his parchment and quill, and began the arduous task of inventing a timetravel potion.

"Three counterclockwise turns followed by a single counterclockwise turn following the serpents tongue... Or four and two?"

Hermione was roused out of her pondering of the specific algorithm to imply backwards motion while preserving forward momentum by Severus's slightly-louder-than-usual muttering.

"Three and one. It will preserve the balance of the bats wool and begin to activate the eye of newt."

"But with four and two we can activate both the eye of newt and the frog toe while producing an enzyme for the lizards leg..."

"And if you add in a unicorn hair between turns it will balance out the other ingredients, make them ready to accept reactions, and nullify the eruption potential of the time sand!"

With that revelation, Hermione was once again absorbed in her calculations, and so did not notice the shock registering on Severus's generally impassive face. He had never met a potioneer who could keep up with his innovations- indeed, most simply nodded and went on with their business. How he had failed to notice her brilliance in class was another matter entirely. She had always seemed such a stickler for the books, never adding imagination or much forward thinking to her potions. Again he was struck with the thought that something must have happened to her. One did not up and change themselves so drastically with so little reason. And saying as the other option was a complete degradation of his observation skills which he had survived on as a spy, it was an occurrence he was willing to accept.

That hour, and many like it passed as the two worked towards perfecting the potion. They slept in shifts, ate in shifts, and worked in shifts, apparated in shifts, all in a seemingly endless cycle of motion. Three days, five hours and twenty-seven minutes after they began formulating the instructions, they felt the potion was ready to be brewed. There were, of course, several drawbacks.

"Severus, where are we going to get the howlet's wing? I know none of the shops on Diagon Alley have them."

"Knockturn Alley, or barring that we shall have to break into my private stores at the castle."

Without speaking, she began waving her wand in intricate patterns over herself and Severus. His nose shortened, his hair turned a mousy brown, he was both shorter and stockier. She on the other hand, had her hair become pin straight and deepened the color into a dark brown, her eyes became a soft shade of blue, and freckles appeared across her face. However, what stood out the most on her was a large purple birthmark displayed across her collar bone. Severus gave her a suspicious glance, but refrained from commenting.

"If people are going to look at us, it is better to draw attention to a single, stark feature, than have them memorize other aspects of our face and perchance recognize us for who we really are. Hence the birthmark."

With that, she began to transfigure their robes, his which were grubby and torn from their escape, became clean, hanging with that 'just ironed' cast, and a deep shade of green echoed with tinges of black at the seams and cuffs. Almost all of hers had been taken by the deatheaters, so she had little to work with. Nevertheless, she managed to create sweeping robes of maroon, which hung just low enough in front to clearly show her birthmark, while implying that she wasn't entirely closed to the notion of forays into areas of a questionable nature.

Which, of course, she wouldn't be, realized Severus. She hadn't even blinked when he'd said Knockturn Alley, and many of the places she'd apparated them to had been less than savory. And, now that he thought about it, you have to be familiar with a place to apparate there, which meant she had gone there, which meant... He wasn't really sure what it meant. She had been on the run for over a year, he hadn't seen her for months at a time in between major battles. He had no way of knowing what it meant. Only that it meant something.

While he pondered the intricacies of Hermione Grangers wartime travels, Hermione herself had reached out and grabbed his arm, flawlessly apparating them to a shadowed corner of Knockturn Alley.

"Right... So Borgin and Burkes or The Den?" Hermione queried.

"Borgin doesn't usually have such high caliber potion ingredients. I believe we will fair better at The Den, although it wouldn't hurt to check Dave's Arts."

"Dave's Arts won't have any. They had their potion stores...unexpectedly depleted a week ago."

Severus's eyebrows rose at the statement, and he gave her a sideways glance that she utterly ignored. But he couldn't let that pass. "And how did you come to know this?"

"I was informed by necessity. Thats The Den, on the left. Shall you go in or shall I?"

"I believe I should enter first. Give me five minutes, then follow."

"Will do."

Severus entered the shop somewhat warily, despite having been a customer multiple times. It wouldn't do to show his knowledge of the shop while disguised as a newcomer. He wandered aimlessly (or so it appeared) for several minutes before walking up to the dusty counter. Slowly, he rose his eyes to meet the cashiers before flitting them away, as though hiding something. He opened his mouth just as the door creaked open and Hermione strolled in. She walked as though she owned the place, and simply shoved Severus out of the way so she might speak with the cashier. Hiding his shock in an offended grimace, he stared at her in wonder.

"I require some of your more delicate potion ingredients." She incanted, while leaning seductively over the counter, somehow conveying both power and potential.

The older man was beside himself, managing only to mutter inarticulately before turning about to get a list of ingredients in stock.

Hermione's eyes fled down the list, categorizing, absorbing and casting away in a show of efficiency and boredom.

"I will take two dog tongues and a single mandrake root. Also a hippogriffs pupil." She ordered, even as she continued reading the list.

"Will that be all, madame?"

"No. But get those now, so I may continue consulting this."

He nearly ran to the storage room, tripping over his feet. Severus barely refrained from laughing, and he could see the spark of amusement dancing in her eyes also. He reappeared with the objects in his arms, and set them down on the counter in front of Hermione. She graced the man with a smile full of never to be fulfilled promises before gesturing with her right arm. The man crumpled to the floor, petrified, and Severus did laugh.

"Well, I did try to warn him. Mandrakes, honestly." With that, she grabbed the dog tongues and the hippogriff's pupil, wrapped them in the packaging from behind the counter, shoved them in her bag, grabbed Severus's arm, and walked out.

"They didn't have what we needed though. Next stop- your stores. Are you even sure they will be intact? Most of the castle was ravaged and what wasn't will most likely have been pillaged."

"The wards I put in place aught to have prevented any such thing. After Potter-and Crouch- managed to get in unhindered, I decided to increase the barriers."

"I think, if there is any chance your private lab has remained untouched, it would be best to brew it there, where we can easily strengthen wards instead of creating them anew. So when we get there, we have to move quickly, I'll start on the wards while you get the potion going okay?"

But she grabbed his arm again before he even got to open his mouth, and suddenly they were back at Hogwarts, and they were_ moving._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Making the Potion

Hermione barely spared a glimpse at the room she found herself in, only noting somewhere in the back of her mind that it was indeed whole and unchanged. Her wand flew around her body as she incanted ward after ward- many of which she had invented herself, others she had seen done by Dumbledore, or Flitwick. It took perhaps ten minutes before they were as safe as she could make them.

Severus did not even look at the room, his eyes instead fell on Hermione as she cast the most difficult series of wards he had yet seen, before he rushed off to the potions closet and began pulling out ingredients. When he returned, he found her sitting by a boiling silver cauldron, already filled with the base of their potion.

"It has to simmer for three more minutes, Severus. Then you can add the toes."

"In the mean time, chop these newts and powder the bison horn."

"Actually, I wanted to discuss something with you," Hermione said, as she reached over to grab the jar of newts. "If this potion does all it should, then we aren't just changing this future- we are obliterating it. Nothing that we know of will come to pass, and for all we know this new future could be worse."

"How, Ms. Granger? When the light has lost, and there stands only the two of us with even a chance of saving the wizarding race? When we have watched each of our fellows fall, when those who felled them took such joy in the killing? I see no reason not to risk it, for even the possibility of a better time. You know as well as I this is our only chance at such."

"Yes. I do. I just... Idle thinking, I suppose. I was hoping we had overlooked something. I know we haven't, I know we need to do this... But the thought of having to go through it all over again with no guarantee that it will turn out any better..."

"This time, we will have our knowledge of Tom, and of the future, to aid us. And, with good fortune, we will arrive some time before Tom even begins his rise to power." As he spoke, he moved closer to the potion and began adding the ingredients, staring intently at the colors that bounced off the silver cauldron.

"Good fortune is not something I like relying on. It has failed me too often." There wasn't a glint of a whine, or even of petulance in her tone, it was a simple truth and it rang of steel.

"Then rely on the formulas and calculations we have. Rely on our knowledge of potions." His voice was clipped, his focus too intent upon brewing to answer her question in any more depth. Hermione, noting this, became silent, only the sound of the knife hitting the chopping block and the bubbling cauldron echoing around the room.

"Severus, it has been an hour. I must check the wards constantly from this point onwards, the potion is yours- I left the time sand in the vial to your left, and the unicorn hair is beside it."

"Yes, go."

Hermione spent the next minutes in tense expectation, feeling the wards for any attempt at breaching, while pouring her magic to deepen and strengthen them. The potion would take at least another two hours, and that was if everything went exactly according to plan. In her experience, something always went awry, no matter how detailed and precise the plan. So it came as no surprise to her that fifteen minutes into her watch, the wards have a shiver and began activating against an unseen enemy on the other side of the door. She breathed a sigh of relief, the attack was far weaker than she feared, there could only be one or two deatheaters there as of yet. Her wards could hold such enemies near indefinitely. Keeping a rope of her magic reaching towards the wards, to give alarm if anything more pressing occurred, she turned back to the potion.

Severus, she noticed, had gotten farther than she had thought he would in the mere half hour. Farther than she thought possible, as a matter of fact. She cast a tempus. And gasped. It had been well over an hour and a half since she had begun focusing on the wards. Why hadn't she realized the time was passing? They must have taken more magic than she had thought...

It was then that the wards gave out a high pitched shriek, though only Hermione could hear it.

"We are under attack. I will hold them off as best I can, just finish the potion!"

"Thirty-eight minutes."

And she was back in the wards, desperately shoving her magic into them while trying to raise new ones. Thirty-eight minutes. She could do this. She had to do this, it was their only hope. She sent a tendril of her magic around the door, feeling for a sense of who stood there. Tom Riddle. Bella. Perhaps twenty other deatheaters. All focusing their powers on the doorway, and she could feel her magic bending, nearing its breaking point. She gave herself ten minutes before the door would burst open, and they would begin dueling.

"Ten minutes before entry."

"I need at least double that."

"Ten is all I can give you, cast a ward around the potion and yourself."

"I already have."

Hermione gave a small huff of frustration. She was doing her best, not that her potions teacher had ever accepted that.

It was, in fact, eleven minutes before the door broke down. Hermione's wandless protego blocked the wooden splinters, but couldn't protect her from the litany of Unforgivables headed her way.

"Imobulus! Incarcerus! Sectumsempra!" Each hex hit one of the curses and bounced them away from her, hitting various jars and books lying about the room. She spent a second to pray that Severus had used a strong ward, before beginning to battle in earnest. _They are all stuck behind the door, so only two or three can curse me at one time, but that will not last for long. Riddle and Bella are at the front. Duck! Avada Kedavra! Protego Maxima! Expulso! _

She twirled about the room, dodging curse after curse, and returning them with equal speed. But, as she suspected, she had only managed to fell five, or perhaps six, deatheaters, before Riddle blasted the doorway open, and the walls crumbled away. Then they began to enter the room.

Hermione stood so her back was to Severus's, and battled with all she had. The air was thick with color, green and red the most prominent, and she avoided them with a practiced ease. Then a cutting hex by passed her shield and landed on her collar bone leaving a deep gash- but she had no time to fix it._ Ignore it. It is nothing compared to the others_. And it was. But the continuous motions that dueling required caused her barely staunched wounds from her earlier torture to open anew, and she felt the warm substance dripping down all around her. She could feel her magic weakening as it tried to both protect her, and heal the cuts. Her movements were slower, her legs sluggish, and her waving her wand arm was like trying to punch air. A bonebreaking curse got through next, and her knee shattered. Struggling to remain standing, she paused in her shielding for yet another moment, and she felt Severus's ward give way. She was minutes away from fainting.

"We have to go NOW."

"It is not-"

"Throw in the sand!"

But Severus shook his head, knowing the potion needed to simmer for at least another several minutes, and blissfully unaware of the full damage Hermione received. With a wordless cry of fury, Hermione grabbed his arm and swung him so he was facing the deatheaters, while she faced the potion. Her hand snaked out and pulled the stopper from the vial before shakily tossing the sand into the potion, watching as the potion turned from a deep red to a light, golden green.

She felt, more than heard, Severus give a shuddering wail as he fell to the ground behind her, and turned faster than she thought possible to face the threat. As she turned, her wrist which had hovered over the potion an instant too long, let go a single drop of blood, and the potion went black before exploding towards her. The black fumes hovered in the air around her, and she felt herself blacking out even as she fought to remain fighting. A haze of red enveloped her, and she screamed as the crucio took her. Then the black fumes roused themselves and dove into her open mouth.

She fell to the ground before disappearing entirely.

Tom Riddle, or Voldemort, though he referred to himself as Riddle, looked on in awe. He had finally managed to get a blood boiling curse past Severus's barriers- he had been smiling in victory as he watched him fall to the floor, his skin melting off him- when the black cloud had surrounded the mudblood, almost embracing her. He had seen her struggle against it, had sent a Crucio at her, then had seen her sink into the floor as the fumes entered her system.

He uttered a wordless shriek, and took a sick pleasure in the number of cracks which resulted from fear of his fury. The potion was gone, there was no knowing what it did- though by the shock in her eyes, it had not done what she wished it to anyway.

Riddle turned slowly to face his remaining followers, and found only Bella. Once, perhaps, Narcissa would have dared stand with him, but the Mudbloods imperio had seen to her death, along with several of his followers. Another scream exited his mouth, and Bella flinched- but not away from him, as others did, but towards him, and he decided to be merciful this once. Bravery was to be rewarded.

It was another three minutes before the world shook and fell apart, at the exact moment when Hermione Granger opened her eyes, one day far into the past.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Please continue to read and review, it means a lot :)


	7. Chapter 7

The smoke around Hermione's body held her upright, even as she battled the aftershocks of the Cruciatis curse, and struggled against the blackness threatening to overtake her. It formed a chair, of sorts, which held her as she cried out in agony against the aching pain in her body, and the gaping whole in her heart. As she began to calm down, the smoke around her thinned, though that which made the chair remained firm underneath her. Hermione curled into a small ball, still unable to see beyond the gray, and collapsed as her brain gave way to unconsciousness.

The floating fog- for that is what this mist around Hermione appeared to be- rose up and around the grounds of Hogwarts, looking for a place to safely deposit it's creator. It found the lake too wet, and the forest too full of creatures, the lawn too open to attack... Finally, it settled on the courtyard just beyond the main entrance, where it arranged her softly on the ground before heading off to find assistance.

People, thought the fog, were insurmountably stupid. It had gone to the windows in one of the towers, and formed a hand which pointed towards the fallen girl, and the red and gold children had merely looked on and laughed. Then, it had spelled out H-E-L-P, only to find that even more of the students had begun to laugh. So, it moved to a different tower, and then another, and another. Each time it was met with wide eyes and shocked gasps, but no one even attempted to leave the rooms they were in. At least, thought the fog, no one else had laughed at it. No, it seemed only the red and gold children were foolish enough to do that. With a dense displeasure, the fog danced away from the castle, and began looking towards the forest of creatures, hoping against hope that one of them could help it's mistress.

The centaurs ignored it. After all, they only had interest in the stars, and the fog had found that they were easily angered if one attempted to block those stars. Scared despite it's inability to be harmed, the fog looked further in. The pixies were sleeping. The acromantulas would probably just eat her. The three headed snake couldn't make up it's mind. The random black panther, however, ceased it's hunt when it saw the fog begin to spell out it's purpose.

"Help. Girl. In. Court. Yard. Dying. Help." The cycle was repeated only twice before the panther turned and ran in the direction of the fog's hurridly created finger.

When the panther, flanked by the fog, arrived at the scene, the grass around Hermione was slick with blood. With a gasp that the fog was mildly surprised could come from a panther, the creature rose on it's hind legs and began to transform. In it's place was a man with short, blonde hair and dark grey eyes who raised a finely shaped stick in the air and waved it in odd patterns. The fog would have laughed, were it not so worried for it's mistress. Then, Hermione floated into the air and the door opened of it's own accord. The fog, realizing that it's mistress was actually in capable- and non misty- hands, felt itself begin to fall away having done it's duty.

Professor Trent was not having a good night. First, his dinner steak had been overcooked. Then Dumbledore had held a staff meeting for over two hours, even though it was midway through the second week of school and no one had anything to speak about. Then he had failed to discover a new bogart for his class, even in the forbidden forest. Finally, he had run into a mysterious fog that had asked for help with a 'dying' girl, whose directions he had followed, in order to find a girl who was in fact, dying, on Hogwarts grounds. Now, he was racing through the halls with the levitating the girl wandlessly while instructing his patronus to inform Dumbledore of the situation.

He reached the Hospital Wing at the a few seconds before Dumbledore barged into the room, twilight robes flaring out behind him.

"Who is it? What happened to her? What have you given her? What is her status?"

"Don't know. Don't know. Pain relief and blood replenishing potions. Not good."

"Diagnostic? And where is Madame McGreen?"

"Haven't run one yet, and I haven't seen her, I only got here a second before you did. If you'll run the diagnostics I'll grab the potions cabinet." Without waiting for a reply, Professor Trent was at the door of Madame McGreen's office, casting several unlocking and dewarding spells as he went. "Accio cabinet."

When he turned back to Dumbledore, he saw an ashen face and a very worrying diagnostic flashing in the air.

"Bloody hell- Sorry, Headmaster- here's the Skele Grow..."

"Fine, fine, its Albus, I think an internal freezing charm-_ Frigidus Lumbi!_"

"Do you know her? _Vulneri! Prohibere Dolor!_"

"No. This wound's been cursed..._Finem Maledictionem._"

"I think she's suffering from the after effects of the cruciatus. Have you checked her arm?"

"No mark. Get her the Anti-Shaking potion, she's starting to move. _Finite Incantatum. Prohibitus tenebris."_

"Got it. Where the hel-heck- is that mediwitch?!"

"Thats not what matters right now... I have to get a bezoar from the office. Watch her."

"I know it's not, but in a choice of falling apart at the state of this girl, or focusing on inanities, I pick inanities."

"You've been through this before."

"Yes."

Several minutes passed, in which both wizards were busily waving their wands, and trying (and generally succeeding) in staunching the woman's bleeding.

"Albus. Have you seen this?" Queried Trent, who was gesturing towards the girls wrist, having finally scourgified enough of the blood off to see the pale white skin with deep red lines running across it.

"How could they?" He whispered in a broken voice, having read the single line of letters spelling out mudblood. "She is but a child..."

"A child she may have been, but no one comes out of this innocent. She is an adult now, whether we wish it or no. To deny her that is to deny the reality of her past, and to affront her honor."

"It is evil! Do not-"

"It is evil. I never implied it was not. Calm yourself, Albus. We must focus."

"It can not be healed, not without massive scarring."

"No doubt as it was intended. These people, whoever they were, intended her to die- and if she did not, to live a shell of a life, forever in the shadow of her torture."

"You know too much of this."

"It is what happens to those who live as I do."

"Trent, how-"

"Again, now is not the time. And it is Evan."

"You are right."

Again the two lapsed into a somewhat strained silence, both intensely curious about the girl on the bed before them. It was two hours before the girl was stable if barely, and they felt it was safe to rest. Both were nearly exhausted from the vast amount of magic necessary to cater to her needs, but they were also pleased that they had kept her from deaths door, and it looked as though she would make a full recovery.

"Merlins pants! I thought we were going to lose her..."

"I thought so too, Evan, and I think were it not that both of us were available, we likely would have. We were lucky."

"We were. But I wish that she had been more so. How old do you think she is?"

"Ah, but that is a simple fix- _Tempus_."

The words 'Born September 19th, 1979' rose into the air above the young woman.

"That can not be right."

"You try it, then." Albus replied somewhat childishly. It was not often people doubted his magical skill, and even less often was it a staff member.

"_Tempus._" But Evan's charm yielded the same results. Evan began to laugh.

"Well, we now know she is a time traveller, who may or may not wreck our entire future merely by existing here, we know the day she will come into existence, but we still have no notion of her age!" He said through his guffaws. Evan was aware, dimly, that this situation wasn't remotely comical, but he also knew that it was a laugh or cry situation, and he never, ever, chose cry. Albus looked on in wonder. Why on earth does this man find our potential obliteration comical? He thought to himself, before interrupting.

"This isn't a humerus matter, Evan. She really could ruin everything..."

"Albus. Look at the state of this woman. What says that everything hasn't already been?"

Albus looked at his colleague sharply. Evan was almost too good at understanding dangerous circumstances and reacting to them. Could he... But no, he would have noticed if the man were a death eater- certainly he would have just let the woman die? It was simply his exhaustion getting to him.

"Let us hope not."

In the midst of Albus's sentence, Hermione's eyes fluttered open.

"Albus?" She whispered, her throat hoarse from screaming. "Am I dead?"

Albus's eyes shot open, gaping at her, his mind coming to terms with the fact that sometime in the next forty to fifty years, he would die. That was, if this woman did not change the timeline.

"It is I. And no, my dear girl, you are not dead. You are in the Hogwarts infirmary, and it is the year 1977."

The girl promptly fainted.

"You couldn't have waited a bit to tell her that? Now we have to wait until she wakes up again to hear her story!" Whined Evan, though he too had understood the meaning behind the girls innocent question, and thus could not truly fault Albus for wanting a few more moments of peace.


End file.
